Page 81 of Worst in Show

His stomach growls as if it’s never wanted anything more. “That would be amazing.” He pulls the blanket up to his chin. “I’ve had nothing but peanut butter for the past two days.”

I put a bowl in the microwave and glance over my shoulder while it spins. “You do look pretty terrible,” I say. “No offense.”

“None taken. All jokes aside, I don’t feel awesome either. But better now that you stopped by. How was training?”

“No one ran away.” I smile, ignoring his compliment. “Spoon?”

“Second drawer. Well, that’s a success then.”

I set the soup down on the coffee table next to him and then help myself to a portion as well.

We eat in a silence that stretches with the clang of metal against ceramic. Our eyes meet occasionally, but suddenly words seem to have escaped us both. So much for pretending.

When I can’t take it anymore, I spit out the first thing that comes to mind. “Cholula did good with the tunnel today. Cap too.”

His brow lifts, and he nods. “That’s good.” I think he’s going to leave it like that, but then he asks, “Are you having second thoughts about which one of them to show?”

I chew and swallow. “No. Cap had one of his spacey episodes afterward. Maybe he got overexcited.”

Leo finishes his soup and sets the bowl down. “If I wasn’t so exhausted, I’d worry about falling behind.” He leans back against the cushions and closes his eyes.

“You’ll catch up.”

Again the room falls quiet. Tilly is dreaming on the floor next to us, her tiny yips the only interruption to latch on to.

“Aww, so cute,” I say.

Leo turns to look and hums in agreement.

We both watch her as if she’s the most fascinating creature. A sleeping dog. Leo is not usually at a loss for words, and I keep hoping he’ll dive in and launch us out of our stalemate, but he doesn’t.

My fingertips find a loose thread at the hem of my shirt that I pull on until it frays, and when the knit threatens to unravel, I give up the wait. I reach for Leo’s bowl and bring it to the sink. “Anything else I can get you before I go? More water? Tea? Another blanket?”

He peers up at me, dark shadows marring his face. For a second, he looks as if he can’t believe I’m here. As if he doesn’t want me to go. Then he closes his eyes again. “No, I’m okay. But thank you.”

I look out the window toward Happy Paws. The store is dark, but I’ve left a light on for the dogs upstairs. That’s where I’m supposed to be, I remind myself. Preventing the man in front of me from edging me out of business. Maybe this is for the best. “Okay, well… then I’m going to head out.” I pull on my knitted cap and reach for my jacket, pausing for a moment in the middle of his room. “I’ll check in again tomorrow, but let me know if you need anything before that, okay?”

“Okay. Hey, Cora?”

I turn, my hand on the door handle. “Yeah?”

He rubs a hand across one eyebrow. Pauses. “Never mind. See you tomorrow.”

I know he’s watching me as I leave, and I feel his eyes on me as I cross the street.

I can still see him through the window when I get up to the apartment. He has his laptop open at the table, and in a flash, an idea sparks.

With shaky hands, I pull out my phone and navigate to Flockify. My last message to Al still sits unanswered, but I don’t let that stop me. Maybe SingerQueen and AlCaponesGhost25 are better communicators than Cora and Leo.

Living History Illinois Flockify DM, Wednesday 09:34 PM

SingerQueen: Can I ask you a question?

Here in the dark, I have a front row seat to him reacting to the message alert. There’s a split second where I worry he’ll read it and leave me hanging again, but this time, he responds right away.

AlCaponesGhost25: Of course, hotdog girl.

SingerQueen: We talked about that…

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